


Other Matters

by CompletelyInfatuated



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, if the fact that overlord is in this fic didnt chase you away, man jsut when u think you dont have the kink and then a character shows up and then you do, so i dont have a lot to be nervous about do i, then chances are you are also into some weird shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 00:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyInfatuated/pseuds/CompletelyInfatuated
Summary: Don't you just hate it when you get sent 37849875 dick pics every ten minutes?? Well apparently Megatron didn't hate it enough to NOT fuck Overlord, so there's that.





	Other Matters

**Author's Note:**

> hehey i promised a fic like 3.5 months ago and somehow i got it done

To say Megatron was a busy bot would be a _vast_ understatement. His tightly packed schedule left very little time to anything aside from commanding the Decepticons. Day after day, strategizing, planning, trying to poke and prod at opportunities and predict the next step that the Autobots would take... Naturally, the warlord wouldn’t grant much attention to things with lower priorities. If they were not of immediate importance, he wouldn’t pay it more than a few seconds of his time before passing it on to a lower ranked general, who might hand it down to one with an even lower rank to take care of it. This was a near hourly occurrence in the strangling grip of war, and it left most of the bots involved tense and stressed, even if they were used to the constant pressure.

Megatron had to, more than  _ any  _ other Decepticon, keep himself upright and never falter in the face of the strain they were all put under. He started this and was certainly going to see it through, A lot was riding on him, but dwelling on it and letting anxiety sprout was one things he would not allow to happen, no matter the cost. He had to lead them, be the unbending and unbreakable pillar that held up the cause they all fought for. He had to be the ideal image of a Decepticon, something to be feared and respected, and to accomplish this he would set aside his own (and also very often others') needs.

As such, he did not have time for the persistent messages from Overlord that occasionally flooded his inbox. Oh, one would think such a highly ranked Decepticon would only have important things to say. One would think a one percenter, infamous for his sadistic cruelty, immense strength and intimidating size, would only notify Megatron, the leader of the Decepticons, about _important_ matters. One would _truly_ think so.

Alas, the messages that were sent to Megatron from Overlord often did not contain anything that had to do with the ongoing war. Instead, they were filled with vulgar suggestions and requests. _“Booty calls”._

Megatron groaned tiredly upon his communicator beeping for the 5th time that minute. Undoubtedly, another obscene message from Overlord. It had been a rather nice few hours of solitude in his office on the ship. He had been so focused on work that when he had opened one of the messages earlier only a few minutes ago, he had felt nothing but an insane amount of irritation at the picture of Overlord's array that had been attached to the message. The mech was absolutely shameless and did not respect nor fear Megatron. While they both knew that the former miner was very capable of overpowering Overlord, the one percenter insisted upon challenging their positions.

The 6th time his communications device beeped, Megatron considered crushing it in his hand as he picked it up, but replacing it was decidely a bigger bother than dealing with Overlord.

Upon viewing the screen, he found that the latest message was not from Overlord, but from Soundwave. If there was anyone Megatron would be forced to trust in the near future, Soundwave would be the first on a very short list of bots. Without much thought, he opened the message. For every word he read the annoyed wrinkle on his optical ridge grew deeper.

 

_ ::Lord Megatron, I have been personally requested by Air commander Starscream to inform you about what he referred to as an "important issue". _

_ It seems as if there is an ongoing trend in the lower ranks that have now reached higher up in our system. A trend that involves sending a spike picture to 10 other bots to avoid seven centuries of bad luck. I have traced its origins back to Overlord, and it seems as if the picture is of his array. Some of us, myself included, have been sent several hundred messages, and I have received a severe amount of complaints. _

_ I am aware that this is an issue with low priority, but it may affect our troops negatively in the long run. _

_ I will be awaiting your orders. _

_ Soundwave:: _

 

Megatron barely had time or capacity for the feeling of regret. To him there weren’t many other directions but forward, but in this moment there might have been a certain amount of… _deeply seated repentance._ Especially when he received another message from Overlord titled with that obnoxious heart symbol the phase sixer had taken a liking to.

 

* * *

 

 

“With all due respect, my lord... “

The sullen look that Megatron shot at the medic immediately made him close his mouth. With a sigh, the warlord gestured for him to continue.

“... The amount of stress you have built up will have a lasting effect on your frame. Going through heats without any stimulation, not even self service…” Megatron cut him off by raising a slow servo.

“I do not have _time_ for nonsense like this. For fooling around.” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was by no means prude. He did not reject the thought of interfacing. But with what little spare time he had such activities were pushed aside, even when his pesky heat cycle would act up.

“I apologize, my lord, but I must insist that you find a solution soon… The effects are subtle, but not optimal. I would highly recommend that you... “ the medic cleared his throat. “Find yourself an interfacing partner or two. It is the most effective way to rid yourself of the excess charge that’s straining your frame.”

There was a long moment of silence, and the sheer amount of anger sprouting within Megatron somehow only manifested as another deep sigh. “Right… Understood.” Megatron murmured, already feeling the oncoming processor ache.

As he left the medbay to attend a rather urgent meeting, the warlord was absolutely not in the mood for any sort of shenanigans, especially not for any coming from the direction of a certain one percenter, yet a shrill beeping cut a trail of irritation in his already bothered mind.

Luckily the message wasn't sent by the one percenter, but Soundwave again. What was much less lucky was that the message itself was related to Overlord, and it was, of course, not about anything chaste.

 

_ ::Lord Megatron, I have been approached by Overlord (several times) to relay you a message, but I am suspecting the exact words he requested me to relay may not be of much interest to you. _

_ I do find it to be worth mentioning that he is currently undergoing heat and apparently cannot attend to his duties in his state, hence why he has asked me to contact you (repeatedly). He may be asking for your assistance regarding his heat. _

_ I await your orders patiently. I would greatly appreciate a quick answer to this report. _

_ Soundwave.:: _

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps Megatron should have given this awful decision some more thought. Unfortunately, he was already all but half a minute’s walking distance away from Overlord’s quarters.

It wasn’t like Megatron had rushed into this decision either. It had been nearly a mega-cycle since Soundwave had sent the message about Overlord. He had found his mind repeatedly circling back to it, considering his answer even while deeply invested in other _considerably_ more important matters. The only reason it had taken him that long to reply to the report was because this had presented itself as an opportunity rather than the bother it usually was. The fact that his frame was under the threat of unnecessary strain was a large factor in this situation.

It had taken him a few hours to actually type in that he would personally go and meet with Overlord

He halted outside the massive door, staring it down as if it would solve all of his problems. He knew that it unfortunately wouldn’t, and he knocked after a few seconds.

 

Silence.

Megatron slowly blinked and knocked again, irritation rising. He had bothered to come all the way out here, when there were much more urgent matters at hand, after Overlord had showered him with highly vulgar suggestions. Yet here he was, standing like a fool outside the quarters of a Decepticon he knew would do much solely to gain his momentary attention.

He turned to leave, but then a loud hiss told him that he had been granted access to the quarters. When he looked back, he was met by… no one. The doorway was completely empty, only showing the room that functioned as Overlord’s office. Megatron suspected that it rarely saw any use.The one percenter got bored all too easily.

He stepped inside, listening to the door shutting behind him. He was wary, of course. Scanning the room with his optics, he clearly remembered the tendency Overlord had, giving little warning before surrendering to violent urges. Megatron had no doubt that he could still beat Overlord, but he would not allow the one percenter to get the upper hand so easily.

After waiting for something to happen for a minute or two, Megatron determined that he should look for the con rather than just stand around. Overlord’s quarters were bigger than needed be, even for a mech his size. Megatron’s were more of a minimalistic, practical type, whereas these quarters held comfort higher than anything else. He inhaled a vent through his nose as he turned towards another set of doors and promptly knew which one to go through; a heavy, tangy and almost sweet smell wafted from behind the door to the left, and as soon as Megatron got it open, he was met with a wall of the scent, dizzying his processor for a hot second.

_ “My, my, my… Look who finally came by.” _

Shifting his weight onto one foot, Megatron gained optical contact with the bot of the hour. It was quite a feat to do so, considering that, _unsurprisingly_ , Overlord had opened his array and his heavy cord of a spike laid bare in his hand. Or, well. His valve panel was still shut, albeit the seams were leaking viciously. The tower of a mech had seated himself on that enormous berth of his, pulling lazily at his considerable length, and he was giving Megatron a shameless, almost smug grin.

“My _beloved_ Megatron… What  took you so long?” Overlord almost hummed it, unsubtly measuring  Megatron’s frame with his hungry, smoldering red optics. The rumble of his powerful engines thrummed into the room, steam hissing as it left in slow vents from his frame. Even from where Megatron stood the warlord could spot the loosened seams in the giant’s fluffed plating, and pretty much everything about the mech screamed for touch, for someone to get up close and personal.

“You know exactly what took me so long,” Megatron stated, tone completely devoid of humor. “I don’t have time for this. You know I am busy.” He held himself where he stood, arms crossing.

“Yet you came.” Overlord tilted his helm and he all too obviously licked his lips for Megatron to see. Every move seemed to be aimed towards having the warlord clamber up and join him on the berth. “All the way to see lil’ ole me. I can’t help but feel you’ve come here for a reason.”

Megatron almost rolled his optics. They both knew why he had come… Or, Megatron _sort_ of knew why he had decided to come. He doubted Overlord knew that he had health issues tied to suppressing his own heat-induced urges, although the bot wasn’t stupid. He may very well have figured it out by now.

“Again. You  _ know _ .” Megatron headed closer to the berth, stride slow and unhurried. Truth be told, the scent of Overlord’s heat forced him to manage the many obscene ideas that started welling up one by one as he got near the other mech. It was a natural reaction, and considering the fact he was pent up something fierce by now it would have been a wonder if the heat had left any less of an effect on the sturdy mech. He could feel composure slip ever so slightly as he got close enough to the berth to see the constant but subtle shivers shooting up Overlord’s massive frame.

“Ah… I wonder… Do I?” As always, Overlord liked to play around. Megatron grunted.

“I can walk out of here if I want to, Overlord,” He raised an optical ridge at the other, finding it a little distracting that the giant kept tugging slowly at the thick spike between them. “I’m in a hurry. Let’s get it over with.” He had no intention of letting this drag out more than necessary and he wouldn’t let Overlord fool around for too long. There was a huff of hot air from Overlord’s vents that rolled over Megatron as soon as he halted only a step away from the berth. The one percenter’s rather characteristic lips were slightly parted and a soft moan dropped from them, the noise laced with need.

“Fine, _ fine~....”  _ The way Overlord said it didn’t indicate that he was any less amused. It seemed as it only  _ fueled  _ his amusement that Megatron so clearly wanted to be quick with this. “But, before we start… I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

Megatron paused in the middle of climbing onto the bed, between Overlord’s spread thighs. He warily looked up at the other, readily expecting trouble when he is met with narrowed optics and a mirthful smirk.

“I said I don’t have time--” Megatron was promptly cut off by Overlord casually putting the tip of a digit towards the warlord’s lips.

“I’ll make it quick, I promise, I _prooooomise…_ I know you’ve got all kinds of business to take care off, but I’ll make it worth your while,” The burly giant shifted on the berth, and Megatron could  _hear_ lubricant sloshing around against Overlord’s valve panel.

“Did you get your  _ valve  _ modded this time?” He grunted, looking fairly unimpressed. He had gotten a good amount of pictures, all of them specifically of the one percenter’s massive spike with a different mod every time. Overlord got new upgrades to the thing way too often, and unfortunately Megatron got an  _ update  _ every time it happened. He wouldn’t be surprised if this was just Overlord mixing it a bit up for once.

“Oh, no, no… No, my dear Megatron…” Ignoring the toxic look he got from the warlord, Overlord laid back on the berth, propped up on an elbow so he could still watch the other as he built up for the big reveal. “You could say it’s quite the opposite, actually. No mods, no upgrades… In fact…”

The panel finally slid open, releasing a flood of pink fluid onto the berth. Overlord, outrageously shameless as always, reached down from his spike to spread the plump folds between his thighs, revealing a clenching entrance practically begging for something to enter it.

Nothing particularly caught Megatron’s eye, aside from the translucent veil barely visible further inside Overlord’s valve.

Megatron glanced questionably up at the other, but didn't voice his surprise. He would never truly have expected Overlord to have kept his seal for this long. Had he  _ really  _ avoided penetration just to reveal it to Megatron, even while in heat?

“Just for you,” Overlord breathed, a digit smoothing across his winking entrance. “I saved it… And I’ve been _waiting_ and _waiting…_ ”

Admittedly this _did_ send heat pooling in Megatron’s slowly awakening array. Kneeling on the berth in front of the giant, he finally reached out to touch the other for the first time since arriving, a servo palming at the hip plating near the twitching spike that rested on Overlord’s abdominal armor. The metal was burning hot under his palm, and the response was an undignified sound, something between a groan and a mewl as Overlord rolled his hips into the touch.

_“Come on, Megatron… I’ve been so patient…”_ The giant rumbled, inserting the tips of two digits in the wet hole and spread it wider.  _ “Are you going to make me wait more…? Are you going to make me beg…?” _

Silently, Megatron pulled at Overlord’s fingers to get his massive servo out of the way, but rather than opening his own panels to free his spike, he dipped a finger down and drew a trail up to the bright node that had been flashing at him ever since Overlord revealed his valve. The giant was responsive, jerking ever so softly and spike jumping and dribbling fiercely from the tip and he moaned ever so softly. His engines rose in volume, sending slight vibrations through his entire frame.  Megatron swallowed as he began to rub firm circles against the swollen nub with a thumb, watching as Overlord did nothing to restrain the noises that came from his vocalizer, each moan growing just a bit louder every time his breath hitched.

It took surprisingly little to tip him over the edge; Overlord’s helm tilted back and his engines roared as his spike twitched and spurted a few ropes of transfluid. Pink streaks spattered all the way up his wide, heaving chest, and he moaned appreciatively, his smile audible in every vent.

_ “Ooohh… Oh, Megatron… You tease, not even sticking it in…” _ Overlord purred, still veiled in the aftermath of his sudden climax. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the situation as he tipped his helm back up to gaze at Megatron, red optics flaring. “Not even a _digit_ … I’m sensitive down there, you know…? I’ve never--  _ Unngh!!” _

Cut off by two digits easily slipping into the giant and bumping gently against the seal, Overlord grasped an edge of the berth were he lay.

“I figured.” Megatron could easily break the seal with his digits; the thin wall of silicone gave a little as he poked it, and he kind of considered actually doing so. He had a suspicion that Overlord may find a way to bother the warlord to death about it, though. Maybe if he played along here the future wouldn’t hold nearly as many instances similar to those incredibly undignified messages, more than half of them still unread on his communications device.

Scraping the tip of his digits against the wet interiors, Megatron was slightly surprised by the ping telling him that his array was primed for interfacing. He had barely noticed the growing tightness of his panels. It was a little tricky to remember why he was here in the first place when Overlord insisted on making this experience as sultry as absolutely possible. While Megatron had stirred his fingers around barely a digit joint deep in the clenching channel, Overlord had taken a hold of his thick cord once again and was now slowly stroking it. And of course he was staring directly at Megatron. This gaze looked a tad more impatient, though. A tint of desperation coloured the hazy look in the giant’s smoldering optics.

“Weren’t you in a hurry…?” Overlord rumbled, squeezing around Megatron’s fingers. “Talking about getting it over with, but all you’re doing right now is dragging it out…”

The lip of the grey bot twitched, looking like a ghost of a smile. The one percenter obviously spotted it, because he chuckled huskily. “If you want to hear me _beg_ you can just say so…”

“I don’t care what you do. I’m not here for pleasure.” Megatron retracted his servo, silently admiring just how much fluid had coated his digits. “Beg if you want. Makes no difference to me.”

“Oh, _really_ now?” Overlord may had been in the middle of a heat, but the mech still possessed enough control to sound _smug_. “I guess I won’t have to mind my volume, then. Or my words. _Actions_.”

Megatron just shook his helm with a sigh. This bot had too much audacity. “Like I said, do as you please.” He stated, and although he intended the sentence to be devoid of much feeling it comes out purry and deep. His frame had heated considerably, so he allowed his fans to kick in. Their quiet whirring seemed to excite the bigger mech before him, judging by the way Overlord bit his plump lower lip.

And judging by the actual _whimper_ coming from the one percenter, Overlord certainly seemed to like the click that Megatron’s panels made when they slid open, his spike pressurizing with a low hiss. The giant shifted a bit, the pumping around his cord growing slightly in speed. Calmly, despite being so revved up by now, Megatron lined his tip up against Overlord’s entrance, and the one percenter swore softly through harsh vents. The engorged valve lips engulfed the head and burned hot against Megatron’s spike, and the rippling insides even more so once he started to push inside. He paused when he felt the seal give a little as his tip hit it. Placing his servos on Overlord’s trembling thighs, Megatron looked up from where he was penetrating the massive bot to meet a scorching red gaze. Fresh waves of charge pulsated at every touch as Megatron slowly pushed in, and the one percenter made an impatient noise, narrowing his optics at Megatron. The warlord all but smirked, stalling it a bit. A bot couldn’t exactly _feel_ their seal breaking, but the one penetrating usually could. It was audible, though.

There was a soft pop; a comedically embarrassing sound, mostly. Somehow it was not as embarrassing as Overlord’s _mewl_. Said mech looked completely untouched by that fact. Instead, a grin had spread on his prominent lips, a mix of satisfaction, mirth and anticipation.  Megatron may not quite reach Overlord’s impressive size, but that didn’t mean his spike wouldn’t satisfy the other. Currently, it seemed as if the penetration was in fact greatly appreciated. Vigorously tugging on his length, Overlord had let his optics fall shut and every vent was a moan that hung in the space between them.

Calipers clamped down tightly and an unrestrained, and low whines sounded from Overlord’s intake when Megatron rolled his hips and bottomed out. His spike reached as far as it could, and he only held still for a few seconds, watching Overlord trying to gain enough focus to speak. Megatron never let him collect himself, pulling almost all the way out, then inserting himself back in. A shame that he couldn’t reach the ceiling node… But it was obvious that it wasn’t needed. Overlord let out an enthusiastic cry, thighs spreading even wider to encourage the warlord to go faster. Megatron didn’t grant the wish, not yet. His original aim of coming here would have been to get it over with as quickly as possible, but perhaps slowly unraveling Overlord would get him greater results… And it would definitely make this experience a lot more pleasurable than simply sticking it in and then leaving as soon as he had thrusted enough into the other.

Keeping the slow, but insistent pace, Megatron watched his lubricant-slathered spike slide in and out between those gorgeous folds, watched as the mesh so willingly and easily spread for him. He admittedly had a rather _large_ spike. The couple of times he had interfaced with another bot there had usually always been a comment on it’s size. Maybe even plain rejection, in which case Megatron had rolled his optics and reminded his partner that he had a valve too. Luckily Overlord’s valve took him easily, even without preparation. The perks of the other being a big bot.

He glanced up, apparently having been lost in thought while looking at himself penetrating Overlord. He was surprised to see the other throwing back his helm and groaning loudly as more transfluid dropped onto his belly from his spike. The soft mesh around Megatron’s length rippled and massaged it, trying to pull it further inside. The feeling drew a soft noise from the warlord, one which Overlord with no doubt would have loved to focus on, if it wasn’t drowned out by said mech’s pleasured mewls.  It was quite a show, watching Overlord seize up and react to the stimulation dealt to his, till now, untouched interior nodes. The overload took its time fading, but Megatron didn’t cease the tortuously gentle bucking of his hips. He admitted, it made warmth coil in the pits of his tanks to have a valve clenching around him again, especially when that sweet scent of a bot in heat continuously riled him up.  Blue sparks jumped between the loose seams in Overlord’s armor as he tipped his helm back up, and Megatron noted the string of oral fluid that dripped from the giant’s chin.

_“Megatron…”_ The way Overlord said it made heat swirl in the warlord’s loins. He answered with a hum, stilling as he bottomed out once again, which made the larger mech bite his lower lip. “N-no-- Don’t stop, anything but that…” His deep, rumbling voice cracked as pleaded, and his heavy hips lifted from the bed and pushed against Megatron.

“Tell me, Overlord…” Megatron started, letting a servo travel up to pet the base and underside of Overlord’s impressive spike, coaxing out a moan as a response. “How many heats did you go through without someone spiking you?”

There’s a soft whine and a rather cryptic smile, but no words. Megatron shook his helm with a sigh. He couldn’t believe this bot. “I suppose you find it to be worth it, judging from the look on your face,” He rutted shallowly into the one percenter, who let his servos drop to his sides and his blunt digits dug into the berth with a soft creak. “I seem to have misjudged your patience…”

“Well, I will admit… Mmh…” Overlord’s bassy rumble had gone incredibly husky and a little strained, no doubt in an attempt to sound composed. “I got desperate every time, but come on… I’m a big mech, aren’t I? I can wait…”

Megatron smirked and stilled once more, and as he expected, Overlord whined again, hips shifting. “Y-you really _do_ want me to beg, you old dog--  _ Please _ , keep going, I’ll go mad…! I can be patient, but haven’t I been patient enough…?”

Megatron couldn’t decide if he should be entertained or disappointed. Was it really that easy to make Overlord beg? He settled on “entertained” as he leaned forth a little. The size difference was rather sparse between the two, making it almost possible for Megatron’s face to reach Overlord’s in this position.

“Greedy, aren’t you,” Megatron’s servos easily found seams to dip into and explore. There were soft crackling and popping as branches of charge sprung between their chests, taking Megatron by surprise. There was a lot more charge stored in his frame than he expected. It made his hips move without his control, and he only noticed this because of the awfully wet noises that came from his thrusts, and  Overlord’s obscene close-mouthed moans. “What good would it do you, waiting for me to come spike you? It’s not like I’d be able to stretch you properly.”

“I-it’s not about-- Oh,  _ frag  _ yes,” Overlord could barely keep focus, it seemed. It made the smirk on Megatron’s lips grow a smidgen. “It’s not about stretching-- Uunnhf…! I s-simply cannot think of a b-better mech to spike me than the only one who’s ever defeated me-- _ A-aahn!!” _

But of course. It was always something silly like that with Overlord. Megatron could genuinely not figure out what Overlord felt towards him, because surely “respect” was too far fetched, and "fear" was _completely_ out of the question. Perhaps he was viewing their relationship as a sort of rivalry, but the current happenings were putting a giant question mark on everything between the two. Well, some mechs found it stimulating on different levels to have someone match their strengths. Perhaps it was  _ sexually  _ stimulating for Overlord, and even if that was a little strange, Megatron figured there could be worse fetishes out there than wanting to be overpowered.

He realized that while watching the one percenter enjoy the spiking, Overlord had closed his legs and arms around him, and now his massive limbs were clinging till Megatron’s armor creaked.

“How much will I have to beg to make y-you go harder?” Overlord mumbled it into his audial, his digits leaving dents in his back plating. Most other bots could be taken apart very quickly with how the phase sixer was handling him, but Megatron wasn’t "most other bots". Very fortunate.

“I told you, I don’t care if you beg.” Obviously, his answer wasn’t satisfactory; Megatron was paid with a long, annoyed groan. It made him chuckle more than anything else. “Right, you have been waiting quite some time for this. I’ll see that you get what you need.”

“I need you to rail me, is wh--” It brought Megatron much joy to interrupt Overlord this way, suddenly changing the torturously slow pace with a much faster and reckless one. And the phase sixer _certainly_ enjoyed it, too; this time there were barely words forming on his lips, maybe the occasional babble and a desperate gasp that barely sounded like “Megatron”, but moaning was by far the most common noise that fell from between those plush lips.

Speaking of which.

Since Megatron already was giving into urges rather than reason, he found it easy to reach under Overlord’s thighs and after much pushing and adjusting, he could finally get a taste of Overlord’s mouth. Oral fluid dribbled down the giant's cheeks as their glossas got to know each other quite intimately. Megatron found himself thinking that he may have been missing out by focusing so intensely on the war… While the thought was silly, he entertained it in the moment, swallowing the enthusiastic moans that were growing ecstatic, leaving no doubt about the incoming overload for the con that shook and writhed under him. He pulled back when he recognized the noises Overlord was making against his mouth as mumbling.

_“Nonono, come back, I’m close!”_ Overlord promptly reached around Megatron’s helm, guiding him back in for another kiss, this one somehow even sloppier and more open-mouthed than the one before. Not really what Megatron preferred, but he had other matters at hand to think about. Wetter and stickier matters that squeezed tightly around his spike, milking it and begging for him to dump his transfluid in it. Matters that whimpered to him, dragged lines along his armor with blunt fingers. Matters that quickly recovered from climax and toppled him over, switching their positions. Matters that smiled smugly down at him as he overloaded into said matter’s valve.

Matters he would grab by the hips and continue to thrust into.

* * *

 

 

Megatron had not felt this sated in millenia. There really had been a lot of charge stored in his frame, so much that he wondered how he had not noticed. Now that it was all mostly gone and only weak sparks were left behind in the blissful aftermath of the several and many rounds of increasingly rough interfacing (he had let himself lose count), he could lay there in the berth with his engines purring and be surprisingly comfortable, helm resting against the massive arm that curled around Megatron’s shoulders.

“Again, I recall you saying you were in a _hurry_ , sweetspark.”

Megatron vented softly, still not swatting away the servo petting his abdominal plating. Who knew how much time he had wasted since he decided to come here. It must have been a few hours at least.

“I am.” He answered. “I’m not supposed to be here right now.” He hadn’t gotten any calls, but that was undoubtedly Soundwave’s work. Usually Soundwave never blocked calls for Megatron unless it was specifically requested by the warlord himself, but this time around it might not really have required an order.

“Why are you still nestling up against me, then? Is my company that pleasant?” Overlord teased, only really succeeding in Megatron rolling his optics.

“Are you  _ complaining _ , Overlord?” He grumbled, and he considered getting up and leaving. Probably wouldn’t happen yet; his frame, while satisfied, felt sore and worn. No doubt it was thanks to the numerous overloads that had emptied his transfluid tank completely.

“Certainly not,” Overlord grinned, plush lips framing his denta as he looked down at Megatron. The large bot had adapted a comfortable pose on the berth, lying on his side with that arm supporting the warlord’s head and the other now draped around Megatron’s belly. It’d be covered in transfluid, but Overlord had been so, er, _kind_ as to clean it. With his _mouth_. “I was just puzzled, since you usually are so practical. All wrapped up in work and never playing. Did my messages finally win you over?”

Megatron snorted, the noise mocking more than anything else. “Think what you’d like. You should be smart enough to know that it’s not the case.” He folded his hands on top of his chassis, listening to the occasional hiss of steam released from either of their slightly overheated frames. The room still had that sweet scent of heat lingering in the air, and it tickled in his olfactory sensor when Megatron paid attention to it. When he lied there and thought about it, maybe there weren’t too many high ranked decepticons he would willingly interface with on a mere practical level like this. With others it could create both personal and professional complications if he as much touched their servo a little too long. With Overlord… An occasional and necessary interface with the giant was no problem; they were both fairly high up in the ranks, with Megatron being the leader and Overlord being just a few ranks lower, so meeting up in private quarters wouldn’t seem strange to others, especially when they weren’t known to have a particularly bad relationship. And as far as Megatron could see, he strongly doubted Overlord harbored any romantic feelings for the warlord. And if he did, he suspected the phase sixer would be just fine. He couldn’t imagine Overlord could ever get his spark thoroughly broken enough to truly affect his usual ways,

His stream of thoughts were interrupted by a call, from Soundwave. He sighed wearily and considered not answering, but if it was Soundwave _calling_ , then it was of importance.

“... Where are you going?” Overlord watched Megatron rise from the berth, but did not make an attempt to go after him or make him stay.

“Duty calls. Perhaps you should get yourself ready for similar.” Megatron stated, checking his frame for suspicious looking fluids. It seemed as if Overlord did not miss a single spot earlier. Of course.

“How dull.” Overlord smiled at him as he rolled onto his back. He had still not closed either of his panels, even though his spike had long gone soft and was now limply displayed on his abdominal plating. The size was still impressive somehow. “I was hoping you’d stay for a while…”

“You know neither of us have time for that.” He stretched, spinal strut popping comfortably as he did and soon he was on his way out of there. Soundwave was still calling him, so he could probably squeeze a conversation in and get updated on everything important on his way back.

 

_ “Will you be back?” _

 

Megatron halted as soon as he stepped beyond the door frame, and he knew he had only a few seconds to answer before the door closed.

 

He didn’t say a word, but he gave the other a humored smirk.


End file.
